Possession
by Ariadne Quinn
Summary: Alternate Universe - This story takes place in a "Lord of the Rings"-type setting, and chronicles the X-Men's struggle to maintain balance in the universe, with a focus on Rogue and Gambit.
1. Prolgue

Sage speaks: 

_In the beginning, there was only darkness._

___From that darkness, light was born, and from that light, all else originated._

___And though light came to be forever praised by all forms of life, darkness still had its place in the universe, and the two ruled in harmony. That is how it was, how it is, and how it should be. But balance, once found, must always struggle to remain just so, especially when outside forces conspire to weigh the scales in their favor._

___I breathed my first breath during the initial attempt to tip the scales, a child born in a time of shadow and doubt. My parents were victims of a petty argument, and I was left to fend for myself at a young age. It wasn't until I reached my early teens that the wise one found me and took me in. He trained me to be the best - skilled in the deadly arts of the sword and the thought, impervious to attacks on body or mind. And while my lessons, my very existence, continued in secret, he opened his house to wanderers, lost and unwanted, rejected from their towns and countries for the unforgivable sin of being different...of having a gift that wasn't understood. He began to train them as well, and soon had many devoted followers. That group of misfits became a family, and that family became a force to be reckoned with, fighting injustice wherever they were needed. And though they came to be respected, they were unable to find acceptance._

___Then whispers of an unknown evil ravaged the lands, a dark force from the north was coming, and it would rule everyone and everything. My own education complete, the wise one called to me in the dead of night, and assigned me a task to complete. It was my duty, and mine alone, to go to the north, to live in the darkness, become one with it, and still stay true to the balance of the universe for which his team would fight. I accepted this mission, and left the family I was hidden from to join the chaos they would someday resist._

___Years passed as I won the admiration of the dark ones, working my way up to a position of trust and power, until the day of the reckoning came. People of all races, colors, and creeds stood opposite the forces of the night, terrified but resolute. In reality, they had no chance. The war would have been over before it began...until the wise one and his troops arrived. The battle was long and hard, but the master of darkness was destroyed, and his followers scattered to the winds at his demise._

___I alone was forced to face the judgments of man. The wise one left me to this fate, and I foolishly accepted his decision without question. I was found guilty of crimes that were not my own, and banished from the world of men. My name became a curse that, if uttered out loud, was punishable by death. My words and deeds were erased from history. As far as anyone was concerned, I never existed._

___But those who were said to have been destroyed were not. Evil did not die on that field...it is far too clever to come to such an end. Instead, it concealed itself beyond the scope of human perception, waiting for an opportune time to once again rise and take what it thought rightfully belonged to it. And so it slumbered for many years. _

___Centuries passed. Those who had seen evil for themselves were long dead, and the stories that had been passed down from generation to generation were altered until they were so exaggerated and distorted that they were too spectacular to be believed. The evil and its quest to spread darkness became a tale told to frighten children into behaving. The few who had lived the nightmare, and were living still, were hunted down and tortured using a combination of science and sorcery until their memories were mangled beyond recognition._

___Only I have survived the tests of time with my memory intact. I can recall anything and everything I have experienced, and I am sure I will be called on to serve again...for darkness shift in its seclusion, preparing to once again lay claim on that which it wishes to possess. I recognize signs that have been forgotten, I know the time approaches when the lives of men will be challenged._

___But men will not stand alone, for heroes have been born amongst their numbers once more. The long-lost race that diminished into the light has been reestablished. The gifted ones have returned to protect those who would otherwise shun and despise them. They will fight not only for the fate of men, but fate of all existence._

___Even now, I feel evil stirring from its slumber..._


	2. With an Edge and a Charm

**Chapter 1 - With an Edge and a Charm**

"Come in."

Rogue continued to brush her long hair as the door behind her opened. She watched her foster mother's reflection enter the room and make her way over to the bed.

"You're not dressed."

She was unable to keep her smile from entering her voice as she spoke. "Not that it matters...even if you could see, there's no shame in being in night clothes in front of my own mother."

"I thought by now Raven would've instilled a sense of propriety into your thick skull," she replied disapprovingly.

"Aye. Every day both she and you speak to me of propriety...and I've come to indulge you both..." She put down the brush and turned away from the mirror to face the other woman. "But I'll not be told how to dress or behave in my own chamber."

Irina nodded slightly. "What you do in private is your own business...but what would you have done if it was someone else on the other side of the door?"

"Like who? A stable boy? A soldier looking for a woman to satisfy his primal urges? The people of this country know better than to lay a hand on me." Rogue paused, looked down at her bare hands, and continued with bitterness. "And even if some stranger should miraculously make his way into these halls, you know as well as I that he'd be unconscious before he could do me harm."

"I'm sorry, child. I was only concerned for your safety."

Irina meant well, but she often forgot that Rogue's skin could not touch the skin of another without serious consequences. Whether this was because she was not exposed to the sight of her daughter wearing gloves every day, or because she had foreseen a time when Rogue would be able to control her powers, Rogue didn't know.

"I know." She stood and walked over to the bed, where she sat next to her guardian. "Now, what brings you to my door at such an early hour?"

"I come bearing news - there will be visitors today, and you must be ready to receive them."

"How many?"

"Three."

"Do you know any of them?"

"I could not see their identities."

"Do they warrant a formal welcome?"

Irina didn't answer her right away, and that was all the answer Rogue needed. She rose and began to pace the room. "This ruins my plans for the day...I promised to spend time with the children, and..."

"With the queen away, it's your duty."

"Do not speak to me of duty," she cut her off sharply. "I know what I must do." Taking a deep breath, Rogue sat down before her mirror once more. "When do they come?"

"Shortly after the sun has passed its peak."

"Then I will delay the midday meal until they arrive. Leave me now...I wish to commence my exercises so the day won't be a total waste."

"You haven't the time..."

"I will be ready to receive them," she promised gently. "If it'll ease your mind, I'll only engage in target practice. It's certainly the least physically demanding of my practices, so I won't get all sweaty and dirty."

"You're a good girl," Irina said as she headed for the door.

"I just do as I'm told."

* * *

A little over an hour had passed since the sun had reached its zenith, and there was still no sign of visitors. Rogue had been washed and dressed for quite some time now, and the longer she waited, the more annoyed she became...she would've rather spent her morning perfecting her technique with a sword, and her afternoon presiding over mock-battles the neighborhood children often performed. Instead, she was forced to settle for shooting arrows at stationary targets, and send word that she was unavailable to play with the children.

As she climbed the steps of the watchtower, Rogue silently cursed her foster-mother. If Irina didn't have the gift of foresight, none of them would've been any the wiser to the day's events - she could've gone on as she planned, and there would be no shame in her being in work clothes when these guests showed up unannounced. But to have a seer and not be prepared was unacceptable.

When she reached to top of the stairs, she found two guards standing on opposite sides of the tower, scanning the horizon. She handed both goblets full of hot soup, then looked over the land herself. It was considerably windy up there, and Rogue was glad she hadn't done her hair yet, for it would surely have been ruined by the strong gusts. She stood there for several minutes while the guards drank their meal in silence, searching for any sign of motion in the distance. It wasn't until she had collected the empty cups, and about to return below, that something caught her eye.  
"Tell me, sir," she shouted over the wind to the nearer of the two guards. "Does that look like animal or man?"

The guard followed her pointed finger into the fields and squinted at its target. "Men, three of them. On horseback, I think."

"How long would it take to get here by horse?"

"It depends on their speed, milady. They're too far away for me to guess...but even at a hard gallop, they should not arrive in less than 15 minutes."

"Thank you," she said, turning towards the stairs. "If their heading should change, inform me at once."

After stopping in the kitchen to make sure the food would be ready to serve within the hour, and dropping off the empty goblets to be washed, Rogue headed for the weaving room. Upon entering, she asked two of the queen's handmaidens to attend her in her chamber. She had none of her own, as she always dressed herself for obvious reasons, but she often had the handmaidens arrange her hair when a formal hairstyle was required. When she had successfully brushed the knots out of her wind-ravaged hair, the two women went to work, their fingers nimbly weaving her mane into two braids, one starting on either side of her head, until they met in the back and became one large braid. Because the queen often wore braids herself, the girls were able to do an excellent job in a short period of time.

Thanking them, Rogue let them go to fulfill whatever duties they had to attend to, while she went to the great hall to await her visitors. She walked the hall to make sure everything was in its place. Torches were lit, guards were posted, and the red and black banners of Orënár were prominently displayed...it was ready for whatever manner of man might walk through the doors. Satisfied with the state of the room, she walked up the three steps that led to the thrones, and seated herself in the larger of the two.

Her wait was not long. It was only a matter of minutes before a messenger appeared to announce the arrival of her guests. "A man claiming an acquaintance has requested an audience with you, milady."

"Who is this acquaintance?"

"You know him as Xavier...he brings two strangers I have never laid eyes on."

"Send them in...Xavier is an old friend of Orënár. Anyone in his company is always welcome."

The messenger slipped out for a moment, then swung open the large oak doors with great ceremony and presented her. "Lady Rogue, the Steel Magnolia of Orënár, will see you now."

Rogue stood as the three men entered the hall. Xavier stood in the middle, thin and frail-looking, distributing his weight between a large white staff and the companion to his right. This companion was shorter than he, with dark, wild hair, rough face, gleaming eyes, and an overall savage look about him. In spite of he stature, he looked strong and fierce...a force to be reckoned with. She was struck by the gentleness and respect with which this feral creature treated Xavier. She liked him immediately.

The other companion, taller than either of them, was wearing a cloak with the hood obscuring his face. He wore gloves with several of the fingers cut out, and had a sword hanging at his side. Of the three, he was the only one carrying a weapon.

To them, she looked every bit the queen she wasn't. She wore a black gown the queen herself had made, with red, yellow, and orange flames reaching up from the hem to about mid-calf, and a bright red flaming Phoenix with its wings outstretched, head lifted towards the heavens, and claws extended, that covered her torso. The edges of her dress - around the neckline, the drooping bell sleeves, and the hem - were highlighted with gold thread. Her braided hair was perfect, her white streaks adding age and maturity to her young face. The headpiece of gold and rubies, fashioned specifically for her, subtly highlighted the rank she held.

When the trio reached the foot of the stage upon which the thrones sat, they moved to kneel.

"No," she said, holding up a gloved hand, "Pray, do not kneel before me." The men stopped where they were and stood erect. "I have not earned such respect, nor do I desire it."

Xavier nodded approvingly. "Whatever you wish, my lady. May I present my friends?" She gestured for him to continue. "This is Logan, of the Wild Woods of the North," he said, indicating the man to his right before pointing to the other, "and this is Remy, son of Jean-Luc. We have come on a mission of great importance."

Rogue gave herself away, then. She descended the stairs, retrieved a chair from the side of the room, and dragged it over to where they stood. "Please, sir, you have traveled far. Will you not sit?" Xavier smiled gratefully as Logan helped him into the chair. As the wild man turned to face the lady of the hall, he caught Remy's eye and saw that their thoughts were the same - all appearances to the contrary, this woman was not a royal. Royalty had others fetch chairs for them, they did not do it themselves.

Rather than returning to the throne, Rogue simply stood before them. "I'm sorry that the Lady of the Phoenix is not here to receive you properly...she and the king left two days ago to seek you out. I suppose they did not find you."

"I'm afraid not."

"If you have pressing business you wish to discuss, we can do so now...but if you are agreeable, I can have the midday meal laid out, and you can rest from your journey."

"Our business is not so urgent that we can't accept your hospitality, Lady Rogue."

"Then I will have you taken to your rooms so you may get settled, and when you return, we will eat."

She led the men to three adjoining rooms down the hall from her own before heading to the kitchen. After having a lengthy conversation with the cook about dinner, she returned to the great hall, where she found her guests sitting on one side of a long table, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Unaware of her approach, the wild man complained to his companions. "...to leave a woman alone to watch over the land is unfair. I don't understand how the king can permit such a thing."

Rogue waited for him to finish before speaking up behind him. "Orënár has long been a matriarchal society, Lord Logan." The men stood at the sound of her voice as she walked to the head of the table. "It will continue to be so as long as the logic of this arrangement is understood by its people." She motioned for the others to sit, and followed suit a moment later.

"Logic?" Logan ventured skeptically.

"A bloodline may only truly be traced through women...no matter how much a woman insists that a particular man fathered her child, it is only her word. But it's easy to see who the mother of a child is, since she must go through childbirth. So this country follows the bloodflow from mother to daughter, especially when it comes to its leaders.

"It is the queen, not the king, who rules over these lands...and until the Lady of Orënár bears a daughter, I am her heir. When she is absent, it is my duty to rule in her stead."

Logan stared at her for a moment, thinking over her words before speaking. "Yes...there is a kind of logic go it. I'm sorry if I offended you."

But Rogue was surprised to discover that she had not been insulted. "There is no need to apologize...I'm well aware that the ways of Orënár are different from the rest of the world."

The food was brought in then, so conversation was suspended for a short while. As they ate, Rogue became aware that Xavier's other companion, Remy, still wore his hood. She didn't like the fact that his face was hidden, as it seemed to her that he was trying to challenge her. Her annoyance grew with each passing second, until it finally became too much for her to ignore. "Perhaps it is acceptable to conceal your face where you hail from," she said diplomatically, fighting to keep her tone civil, "but while you are here, manners dictate that your show yourself during meals."

"My sincere apologies," Remy replied softly, reaching up to remove the hood. "I meant no disrespect."

His face was handsome in a rugged sort of way, framed by wavy, brown hair, cut shoulder-length, as many of the men of the time wore it. Though he didn't have a beard, there was noticeable stubble on his chin and cheeks, as if he had recently decided to grow one. The smile he gave her was full of warmth and mischief, and his eyes...her gaze stopped at his unusually colored eyes in fear and excitement.

"The eyes of Orënár," she muttered to herself.

"Pardon?"

"Oh," she said with a start, diverting her eyes. "Nothing...I just..it's nothing." Slightly flustered, she turned her attention to Xavier. "What news do you bring?"

"My news is for the Lady of the Phoenix, and will be of little use to you..." He saw that she was about to protest, but he held up his hand to silence her. "However, as you are the current ruler, I will certainly share whatever information I have."

"You are too kind."

"I have come to the great hall of Naira to ask for the queen's help. There is a disturbance on the astral plane...at first, I thought it was some kind of anomaly, but it has grown in strength in recent weeks..."

"She has sensed it too...in fact, that is why she left to look for you."

"When do you expect her to return?"

"She gave me no set date, though she rarely leaves the city for more than a week. She'll certainly be back in a fortnight. I do not know what your plans are, but you and your companions are certainly more than welcome to remain here to await her arrival."

Xavier thought over the offer before responding. "I'd rather find her sooner than later, though I fear we will miss her if we leave." He glanced at the other two men, then looked at Rogue. "If you don't mind putting up with three wanderers for a while, I'd like to stay."

"As long as you don't expect much in the way of formal entertainment," she said bluntly, "for I am not the queen proper, and have other duties to perform."

"Of course," he replied matter-of-factly. "We are able to amuse ourselves if left to our own devices...do not trouble yourself with trying to think up ways to keep us occupied."

Rogue stood, and the men rose as well. "Your are gracious guests, and I am happy to have you in my home. Should you need anything, please let me know." With that, she excused herself from their company, eager to escape the role of hostess, at least until dinner.

* * *

Hours later, the three leisurely roamed the halls, Xavier acting as tour guide to the two men who had never before laid eyes on Naira. When they reached the great hall where the thrones stood, Logan suggested that they go outside for some fresh air. Exiting the hall through the huge oak doors, they walked out onto the ledge that encircled the building and studied their surroundings. The city of Rámaurúva, capitol of Orënár, was built on a hill in the middle of a large valley, and the hall of Naira, where the king and queen lived, was built on the highest point, so the land surrounding the city could be surveyed easily from almost anywhere outside the building. The watch tower was obviously much taller, and therefore granted the best view of the land in all directions at once, but from where they stood, Xavier, Logan, and Remy could see a good part of the valley.

Almost immediately, a lone figure shrouded in a black cloak with a blazing phoenix on its back caught their eyes.

"I hope that isn't the Lady Rogue," Logan said, turning to Xavier.

"Who else would it be?"

"You there," Logan began, addressing one of the guards stationed outside Naira, "can you tell me if that's the Lady Rogue?"

"Aye. She often walks the countryside in the afternoon."

"Afternoon?" Logan grumbled, turning back to his friends, "the sun is setting...it's nearly dusk. How could she be so careless? How can the guards allow her to..."

"I have known Rogue a long time," Xavier interjected, "and she is more than capable of taking care of herself."

"I don't like it," Logan spoke up again. "I'm going out there."

Remy held out his arm to stop him. "Allow me, mon ami," he said, racing down the steps of the great hall to the path that lead to the gate.

After a few seconds pause, Logan moved to follow him, but Xavier prevented him from doing so. "Let him go."

"But you know what he's gonna do..."

"Wait."

He shook his head, annoyed. "I don't approve of this...allowing that innocent girl to fall into his clutches..."

"Wait," Xavier repeated with a knowing look, suppressing a grin. "Be silent and watch."

Down below, Remy had made his way through the gate, and was soundlessly creeping up on the lady in question. She strolled away from the city in a relaxed, easy manner, oblivious to the man behind her. Or so he thought.

Just when he had gotten close enough to touch her, she unexpectedly whirled around, grabbed his collar, and threw him to the ground. The cold sting of a blade was at his throat before he could say a word. And those same quick reflexes that allowed her to swiftly respond to the approaching threat, also allowed her to recognize her stalker right before she ran him through with her 16 inch knife.

"Good afternoon," he said calmly.

Keeping the sharp metal against his neck, she looked down at him suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"I saw you walking out here alone...I came to protect you."

"As you can see, I do not need your protection."

He glanced at her hip, where the knife's empty sheath hung from a loose belt around her waist. "Against one opponent, surely you do not...but you couldn't possibly defend yourself against an entire company."

"I need only slit one man's throat to take his sword," she said quietly as she removed the blade from his skin and put it in its place. "Then I could hold my own until reinforcements from the city arrived."

"It seems you have no fear," he commented, slowly getting up. When he reached his full height, he found her frosty green eyes boring into his own.

"Anyone who makes such a claim is either a liar or a fool...and I am neither."

Stunned by the unprovoked anger he heard in her voice, he didn't respond until she had taken a few steps away from him. "What do you fear, milady?"

"My fears are my own to keep...they are not your concern."

Defeated, Remy watched her walk away with a combination of awe and respect. He had known many women in his time, and the few that were warriors were willing, sometimes even eager, to play the submissive role around him. Never before had his intentions been so wholeheartedly ignored; she had twisted his chivalrous attempt to save a would-be damsel in distress until it became a mockery of both his strength and intelligence. This girl was a worthy adversary.

"May I walk with you?" he called after her.

"You may do as you wish, my lord...but sneak up on me again, and I will spill your blood across the valley."

Only the son of Jean-Luc would consider such words to be an affirmative response to his request. As he jogged to catch up, she paused mid-step to wait for him, and when he reached her side, they continued together in silence.

Back on the hill, Logan turned to Xavier, whose once hidden smile now spread across his face in victory. "You were right."

"What Rogue neglected to mention earlier is that, because bloodlines are traced through women, they are on equal footing with their male counterparts, and are allowed to pursue interests forbidden to women of other countries."

"Like swordplay."

"Although their numbers have decreased through the years, especially in the outskirts, there are a fair number of female soldiers in Orënár." He looked out at the couple. "Rogue has been trained as a royal shieldmaiden. Her skill with weapons would rival most men's."

"Her rejection will humble him," Logan said thoughtfully. "She will not submit to his charms readily....experiencing defeat will be good for him."

"Perhaps the experience will be good for both of them. I suspect Remy won't give up as easily as you think...he loves a challenge, and this woman may prove to be the ultimate one. As for Rogue, it's about time she was pursued by a man who doesn't fear her.  
"Because of her reputation as a warrior?"

"Because of her gift." Xavier lowered his voice then, though what he was about to say was no secret. "When Rogue's skin touches the skin of another, she absorbs their psyche and life force...in the case of those like us, she also absorbs their gift. She is unable to control this power, so there are few who would dare seek a relationship with her...and even fewer she'd let in."

This explanation answered a secret question Logan had been considering. "That's why she wears gloves indoors."

Xavier nodded. "It is a means of protection...but it will take more than a pair of gloves to protect her from Remy, should he set his heart on her..."


	3. These Restless Dreams

**Chapter 2 - These Restless Dreams**

****

Several days passed, and the king and queen did not return. Although Rogue attempted to go about her daily business as if nothing had changed, she found herself instinctively taking on tasks that belonged to the Lady of the Phoenix, which included spending a fair amount of her time entertaining her guests, despite her previous statement to the contrary. When she could not be there personally, she made sure that games, minstrels, and other diversions were at the ready should her visitors desire them. Even with her newfound responsibilities, she still managed to do a sufficient amount of training, as well as making up her missed appointment with the children. For her part, she was satisfied with the way things were.

Then came the day that her other foster mother arrived with news from the queen. Raven was the queen's personal bodyguard, and Rogue was troubled that she would leave the lady for any reason, even though she claimed that the queen bade her ride ahead. The shieldmaiden held her tongue, however, and spoke only kind words to the older woman. Raven informed her that the Lord and Lady of Orënár would arrive the next day, then excused herself to eat a light supper before retiring.

That night, Rogue awoke to screams. Without hesitation, she leapt out of bed, grabbed the sword that was laying in its sheath on a side table, and flung open her door. She paused to determine the direction from which the sound originated, then hiked up her nightgown over her knees and began to run. Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor as she ran down the dimly lit hall to her guardians' door. The screams had stopped by the time she reached her destination, but the fact that no one answered her knocks, and the door was bolted from the inside, was cause for alarm. She was going to have to break the door down, which would not be easy given the strength and thickness of the wood. Rather than ramming into it with her shoulder, she decided to kick it down - a broken arm would affect her ability to wield a weapon or shield, while an injured foot would merely confine her to fighting on horseback. She had struck the door twice when Logan and Remy appeared at the end of the hall, bare-chested and seemingly without weapons.

She continued to pound the door with her foot until the men reached her. Logan moved to stop her, and she recoiled with fright as his hand almost grazed her bare arm. "Don't touch," she hissed, backing away, afraid that he might mistake her reaction for that of a hysterical woman and try to comfort her...but she was relieved to see comprehension in his eyes.

"I won't," he promised.

"We must go through the door," she stated, once again approaching it.

"Allow me," Logan insisted, holding his arm out to prevent her advance. She stopped in her tracks when gleaming metal claws sprung out of the back of his hands with a _snikt_. He swiped at the door a number of times until it finally swung open.

Rogue slinked past him into the room, while he and Remy lingered in the doorway. Irina was sitting up in the bed, her clouded eyes plagued with visions that made her gift seem like a curse. She looked very old and fragile then, as if her years had come upon her all at once...even her gray-streaked hair seemed to have lost more of its original chestnut hue since that afternoon.

Raven sat directly in front of her, whispering words of comfort as she stroked Irina's withered hand gently. She was in rare form, which is to say, her natural one, with skin as blue as the deepest sea, brilliant red hair that she wore short and straight, contrary to typical woman's fashion, and yellow, catlike eyes. She did not acknowledge the intruders until she was confident that her companion had been placated.

"Who shall I thank for breaking my door down?"

"Why did you not answer my knock?"

Ignoring both her foster daughter's query and her presence, Raven walked past her to inspect the damage that had been done. The length of wood that had been laid horizontally across the door to ensure privacy was cut in half, one piece hanging uselessly from the wall, the other lying on the ground behind the door. Her eyes then fell on the door itself, whose previously smooth outer surface was now marred with splintered claw marks and thin, parallel holes.

She turned to the men in annoyance. "You men have no patience, you are too quick to destroy..."

"If cries in the night do not warrant such destruction, I don't know what does," Logan replied quickly.

"Fools! If you familiar with our ways..."

"I am accustomed to such things, yet it was I who made the first attempt to bring the door down," Rogue said, placing herself between Logan and Raven. "He simply followed my lead."

"And what inspired your sudden loss of sense?"

Refusing to take the bait, Rogue remained calm. "Irina's own words were the source of my concern. While you were away, she warned me of the possibility of strangers walking these halls...and as she often weaves her predictions subtly into conversation, I feared that her prophesy had come true."

Raven stared at her for a few seconds, then returned to Irina. "She needs rest."

Rogue turned to Remy and Logan. "I'd have you wait for me in the great hall," she said in a hushed voice. "There may be much that needs discussing after I learn the details of her vision. If Xavier is awake, and I dare say he is with all this clamor, please have him wait with you." She paused for a moment, and her confidence faltered. "Unless either of you have objections."

"We will follow your instructions with pleasure," Logan replied. The men left Rogue to discuss the matter with her guardians, and headed for the great hall. On the way, they stopped at Xavier's room; indeed, he was awake and dressed, and he accompanied the others to the throne room, where they waited for the lady in silence. Many questions beleaguered their minds, though Xavier's thoughts were far less troubled, since he was acquainted with these incidents.

Rogue entered the hall a short time later. With the previous chaos was behind them, Logan and Remy took note of her appearance. She wore a sleeveless long white nightgown that dragged along the floor as she walked...it was plain but elegant, with tiny white embroidered flowers scattered across it. Her hair was disheveled and hung loose down her back, and for the first time since they arrived, they saw her hands bare, her right still carrying the sword she had long since forgotten.

They waited for her to speak, but she said nothing. "Bad news?" Xavier ventured cautiously.

"A shadow shall fall across this land, and darkness will once again thrust itself upon the world." She closed her eyes as if she was trying to visualize the horrors her mother had seen. "It will destroy everything that openly opposes it, and force anything left into submission. The fate of the world will depend on the actions of a few..."

"What must we do?" Logan asked.

"I must go to the forest-dwellers and ask for their aide."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Xavier spoke up.

"Good idea or not, it must be done."

Raven entered then, carrying a deep purple robe that she tried to drape over Rogue's shoulders. "It is not proper for a woman to be in her nightclothes in mixed company," she chided softly.

Rogue moved away before the fabric touched her shoulders. "And it is not proper for them to be in such a state of dress before me," she replied angrily, motioning to Logan and Remy, whose muscular torsos were still exposed, "but now is not the time to worry about such things. I've taken little notice of their appearance, and I'm sure it is the same for them."

Raven glanced at the men. "Yet you noticed enough that you knew their attire was lacking."

This was an argument Rogue knew that she could not win, so she dropped it. "I told you to stay with Irina, why have you come?"

"I am here to dissuade you from leaving the city...you are the queen..."

"And as such I answer to no one. I _will_ go and speak to the Lady off the Forest."

Rogue's defiance clearly infuriated Raven; she realized that the younger woman would not be so easily swayed. She had her own personal reasons why she wanted Rogue to remain where she was, but she did not want to reveal them. There were other, more general grounds that could be used to convince Rogue to remain, so Raven looked for an ally to persuade her daughter from venturing out into the wild...and found an unlikely one in the man she despised.

"It is true that you answer to no one, but everyone here answers to you; you cannot leave Rámaurúva without a ruler. At the very least, you should wait for the queen to return." Xavier paused, then added. "She should be back in the morrow."

"I will continue to serve my people until my lady relieves me. Only then will I venture west."

"The roads are not safe..." Raven argued.

"I have made the trip many times, and have yet to come across trouble."

It was obvious that some kind of compromise had to be made, and Xavier knew he was the person best qualified to negotiate. "But the times grow dark, lady, you have said so yourself. The roads have become perilous, with whispers of shaded specters riding the land with some unknown purpose. Perhaps you should consider taking an escort."

"You are wise, my lord, and your counsel is always steeped in logic. I cannot deny the points you have made." She looked from Logan to Remy, weighing her options. Remy was about to volunteer when she made her decision. "I would have Lord Logan accompany me, if he is agreeable."

"I have no objections," Logan stated.

"With such men, no wrong decision could be made when choosing between them....but I would prefer Lord Remy take this journey with you."

Xavier's words made her suddenly aware of the sword in her hand. Her grip tightened around its hilt as she spoke. "Whatever you think is best."

"It would be an honor to travel in such beautiful company," he said carefully, fully aware of the fact that she was not overly fond of him. But as usual, his words only served to provoke her.

"If only my beauty were enough to keep me from harm...then I might travel alone."

Rather than risking offending her again, Remy simply bowed to her and left. The others parted company and returned to their rooms shortly thereafter.

* * *

"Your turn."

Remy tore his attention from the ongoing training session and focused on the girl sitting beside him on the two foot high stone wall that encircled the large, open courtyard. She was a few years younger than he, with long brown hair that was braided down her back, a fairly pretty face, and deep brown eyes that typically regarded him shyly, with a touch of flirtation...though now he detected a hint of impatience in them.

"I'm sorry, petite," he said, looking down at his cards in confusion. He hadn't been paying close enough attention to what he was doing, and didn't have the slightest idea how he had come to have the hand he was holding. He studied the cards for several seconds, but the steady clang of metal on metal once again drew his attention away from the game.

Rogue and Logan had begun fighting shortly after they broke fast, a late start by both their accounts, but the delay had allowed them to make up for sleep lost the night before. Remy had wisely remained silent during the early morning meal, acknowledging the lady's presence with nothing more than a nod, since his words always seemed to arouse her anger. But she was so eager to engage in combat against a man-beast that she barely even noticed him. For the first time in days, she allowed herself the luxury of wearing more comfortable, less confining work clothes - a gray-green cotton dress with a dark brown overdress that laced up her sides, and men's work boots. Logan also dressed appropriately for the occasion, donning brown pants, brown boots, and a plain white shirt. He chose not to wear a tunic over his shirt as much to keep it out of his way as to allow Rogue to study his movements. She made it no secret that she wished to learn from him, and he intended on making that task as easy as possible.

Perplexed and captivated by the shieldmaiden's ability to consistently brush him off, Remy enjoyed observing her whenever possible. Even though he had a good idea of her character and personality in general, he was still mystified by her. So, today, under the guise of teaching one of the young women of court how to play a card game, he had come to the courtyard...and "accidentally" stumbled upon the exercise already in progress. He suggested they stay in spite of the training session, and as the lady had no objections, they did. Unfortunately, while she tried to play, Remy's mind wandered.

Lady Katherine, a member of the Pryde family and the next in line to inherit the throne should both the queen and Rogue fall, felt a combination of annoyance and excitement as she slowly gathered the cards that were laid out between them. She did not like being ignored, but was secretly pleased that this handsome stranger was seemingly attracted to Rogue.

It wasn't until she plucked the cards from his hand that Remy's attention returned to her. "What are you doing?"

"You are in no condition to play this game," she said softly, a sly smile sneaking across her face. "Perhaps we should try again when you are not so...easily distracted."

"I'm simply enjoying the show."

"If I may be so bold, my lord, I have seen you watching the lady when you think no one is looking at you."

"Really?" he asked with a playful grin. "And why would you be looking at me?"

"I...I...it is...my job to make sure Lady Rogue is safe," she stammered, blushing slightly.

"And you think I have designs on her?"

"I think you spend a good amount of your free time staring at her...and you would not do so if you were not interested in her."

"I own that I am fascinated by her, but that is all." He stopped, then decided to elaborate. "She does not behave like any lady of court I have ever met. Her mannor is very different from anything I've ever seen...is the queen anything like her?"

Katherine laughed at the idea. "Oh no...the Lady of the Phoenix is not at all like Rogue...they are like night and day. Wait until you meet her...you'll see how different they are."

The sound of Rogue's sword against Logan's claws stopped as Rogue backed up a few feet and wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. "You're holding back," she complained, tucking several stray hairs behind her ear.

She was right, he was holding back. In truth, she was no match for him...he'd been alive and fighting since before her grandparents were born, and would probably continue long after she herself had died. But he was impressed with her skill, and even more with her passion; he would readily put his life in her hands. "Why do you wear a dress to train?" he asked, retracting his claws. "It makes no sense."

"If it were up to me, I would be dressed like you, but I must abide by the laws of the land...and the queen must wear the clothes of a woman. Besides, it is good practice. One never knows when she will be forced into battle. It's best I'm prepared to fight under any circumstances."

"A valid point...now, shall we stop for today?"

"Not until you stop holding back!" she exclaimed, suddenly charging him at full speed.

His claws came out just in time to ward off a blow, and the two returned to their intense session...but it was not long before another entered the courtyard and put an end to it.

Logan saw her first, over Rogue's shoulder, and froze. Confused by the mixture of despair and delight on his face, she lowered her sword. "What is it?"

"I bet the king 50 gold pieces that you would be here training when we returned," the gentle voice said behind her. "And here you are."

Rogue sheathed her sword and turned to the other woman. After giving her a slight curtsy, she held out her hands towards the lady, who took them firmly in her own as they leaned forward and appeared to kiss each other on both cheeks.

"You know me well, milady."

The two separated, and Remy studied the other woman. Katherine was right - Rogue and the Lady of the Phoenix were total opposites. The queen's long hair burned red like morning sky, still perfectly arranged despite her travels. She carried herself with a natural air of nobility, yet there was not a trace of arrogance. Her physical beauty was accentuated by the warmth that emanated from within...one that was friendly and accepting, that made people feel like she cared deeply for them, from the lowliest servant to the highest lord. And then there was Rogue, with her frost-kissed hair, icy green eyes, and inner resolve to protect her heart in a frozen fortress. Summer and winter. Day and night.

"We have guests," Rogue informed her, motioning to Logan, who knelt before them.

"Lord Logan," the queen began softly, bringing him to his feet with a mere look. "It has been a long time."

"Far too long...it is unfortunate that we must meet again under such circumstances."

"I am glad that you're here, in any case."

Logan nodded in response, then averted his eyes from her clear green orbs.

"And Remy, son of Jean-Luc," Rogue continued, leading her over to Remy and Katherine, who slid off the wall and bowed and curtsied respectively.

"If I am not mistaken, you are known by another name," the queen said to Remy after he had returned to a standing position. "You are Gambit, are you not?"

"So my reputation has proceeded me," he replied with pleasure, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.

"Indeed it has." She glanced at Katherine, then shot him a curious, protective look. "I only hope Lady Katherine has been able to keep you entertained."

His reputation with the ladies _had_ preceded him. "The young lady Katherine has been good enough to indulge me in a card game or two," he said carefully, trying dispel the queen's concerns without hurting the girl's feelings. He could have left it at that, but could not resist adding, "But in truth, it is Lady Rogue who has diligently looked after my comfort during our stay."

The Lady of the Phoenix's eyes flickered with understanding, and as their attention fell on Rogue, she felt her cheeks flush. She did not like secret codes and guessing games, and knew that the queen and her guest were making a joke at her expense. "I did my duty in your stead, hopefully to your satisfaction."

The queen was well aware that Rogue was not one who enjoyed being teased, so she left the unspoken accusation hanging in the air as she hooked arms with her and began to exit the courtyard. "I have already spoken to many of our servants, as well as Xavier, and they have done nothing but sing your praises...you have acted well, as I knew you would." Glancing behind them, she called back to the others. "Come, it is time for the midday meal. We will eat our fill, then discuss the pressing matters at hand..."

* * *

Rogue walked the empty halls without a sound. Despite the workout she had endured that morning, and the late hour, she could not sleep. Her mind raced with many thoughts all at once, an absent choir muttering ideas that she couldn't quite grasp. This was not an altogether unusual occurrence, and her penchant for wandering Naira in the dead of night in an attempt to quiet the voices had lead to rumors...as if the people of Orënár didn't have enough to gossip about. As if they didn't already have enough gossip about _her_. Rogue was unsure how this particular rumor had started - at night, Naira was guarded from the outside only, no soldiers were allowed within its walls. There was too much at risk if certain secrets were not hidden from the general population. So she did not know who, aside from others who enjoyed the royal confidence, could possibly know what hours she kept.

As she passed one of the few private balconies that jutted out from the second floor hallway, something caught her eye. A figure with her back towards Rogue pondered the city below, lit by a sliver of the moon. In the dimness, the world had been reduced to black, white, and innumerable shades of gray, making the woman somewhat difficult to identify. Rogue waited in the shadows, allowing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light before venturing a guess as to who stood before her.

"My lady?"

The queen turned, startled, but greeted Rogue with a warm smile. "It seems I am not the only one who was unable to sleep."

Rogue joined her on the balcony, her bare fingers brushing the smooth stone railing in front of her. "I am not tired."

"And I am very much so...but I dare not close my eyes."

Alone for the first time in many days, Rogue was suddenly aware of the queen's uneasiness, and it frightened her. "Jeanne, what troubles you?"  
The Lady of the Phoenix so rarely heard her given name spoken that Rogue's use of it made her open up without hesitation. "My dreams have been dark as of late."

"How so?"

"I have had...visions..."

Rogue was taken aback. "This cannot be...it is unusual for such a gift to come to one so late in life..."

"My visions are not of the future," Jeanne interrupted. "They are of the past."

"Are you sure that they are not merely dreams?"

"At first, I thought they were...but they are too consistent, and the storyline is always continued with each new one."

"Have you told anyone about this?" she asked, but Jeanne did not answer. "Xavier? The king?"

"I have not spoken of this at all, save right now."

"Why not?"

The queen paused, as if she didn't know herself. "Because there is something wrong with this, because these visions feel like memories from a past life, yet I am loathe to believe them."

"Tell me."

"I cannot." Jeanne turned away from her friend and headed indoors.

"Milady..."

"Do not speak of this to anyone," she said, not turning around. "I should not have said anything."

Rogue stood on the balcony for several minutes before returning to her previous course. She was heading towards a small courtyard near the back of the building. Unlike the one she used to hone her fighting skills, which was a large, plain, open space, this one housed a garden of sweet smelling flowers, bushes, and a tree. Descending the stairs to the ground floor, she entered the courtyard without ceremony, walking directly to the white marble fountain in the middle. Closing her eyes, she listened to the bubbling water, which began to wash away the excess voices in her head.

All of a sudden she felt uncomfortable, as if unseen eyes were witnessing her private ritual. Making no indication that she was aware of anyone else's presence, she calmly sat on the rim of the fountain and feigned looking around at the surrounding plants. She was unarmed, but unconcerned with the idea of hand to hand combat - one touch would render the intruder unconscious. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a tiny flash of flame, which grew into a glow that was bright enough to highlight the face of the man sitting in the shadows.

"Lady Rogue," Remy greeted her, taking a puff from his long pipe. She had entered the courtyard like a snowflake - gliding silently on an invisible wind before landing gently on the ground before the fountain. She was in the same white nightgown she wore the night before, this time covered by a thin, liquid silver robe with bell sleeves and a train that dragged behind her...it shone in the light from the white crescent in the sky and looked as if it were made of moonbeams. Her hair was hastily pulled into a makeshift bun, her face framed by the thin wisps of wavy white hair that hung from her head like delicate icicles.

His presence there was mere coincidence - unable to sleep himself, he came to the garden courtyard in an attempt to find peace. Sitting on the retaining wall with his back against a square corner column, he was about to light his pipe when the Steel Magnolia of Orënár appeared. He had not wanted to startle her, as she was obviously deep in thought, so he held his tongue at her arrival. Now that he had spoken, he expected her to lash out him again, but was surprised to find her serene.

"You should be asleep."

"As should you."

She approached him slowly, almost floating above ground. "I am a creature of the night, my lord, I often walk the grounds long after everyone else has retired."

"Perhaps I am a creature of the night as well."

Rogue was standing a few feet away, leaning on the wall upon which he sat. She peered through the darkness between them before responding. "Somehow I do not think so."

Remy grinned. "You are right, I am not one by choice...but I find myself wide awake despite the hour, and came her in an attempt to calm my nerves."

"I must admit that I am in the same predicament...with our long day ahead of us tomorrow, I would normally forgo my nocturnal tendencies, but I have been unable to relax."

He nodded, then invited her to join him with a wave of his hand. She hoisted herself up on the wall, leaned back against the column facing him, then closed her eyes and again listened to the soothing sound of trickling water. Remy watched her for several minutes, thoughtfully smoking his pipe. Now in the shadows, her face, sculpted by winter winds, held an unmistakable expression of concern. And if she was concerned about something enough that her face gave it away, Remy was concerned as well. After allowing her some time to absorb their peaceful surroundings, he decided to address these concerns.

"Something troubles you, my lady?"

Rogue opened her eyes slowly and eyed him curiously. By all accounts, this was the first real conversation they had ever had...and despite whatever differences they'd had in the past few days, she felt like he was someone who could be trusted. "The queen is troubled, and so I am troubled as well."

"Because of your mother's visions?"

"No...because of her own."

Remy was confused. "The Lady of the Phoenix has visions? I had no idea."

"No, she doesn't." Rogue scolded herself for saying this much about a topic her lady told her to keep secret...but it was one less burden for her to carry alone, and for that she was thankful. "Her visions are not like Irinia's...Irina has two gifts - one of foresight, and one simply known as 'the sight.' Foresight allows her to see a variety of possible futures...these are distant futures, they will not come to pass for a long time. 'The sight' is the gift you have recently witnessed; as time passes, a particular future she has previously predicted becomes more and more likely to be the true future, and this is the one she has visions of, usually while sleeping."

"And the queen?"

"The queen believes her visions are of the past...a terrible past. Though it is already finished, the past also contributes to our future, and I think she is worried that this specific past will help shape our near-future."

"And she is helpless to stop it."

Rogue rested her head back against the stone column. "We cannot change the past, my lord, we can only change the present."

"Like now?"

"I do not know what you mean," she replied hastily.

He smiled slowly, but carefully, at the comprehension he clearly heard in her voice. "I am pleased that the animosity between us has finally dissipated."

"And I am pleased that you have yet to try to flatter me with pretty words tonight."

"Is that what bothers you, my compliments?"

"Your compliments are little more than thinly veiled attempts to impress me, perhaps even seduce me, and that is something I do not take kindly to."

Her response had been honest, without a trace of anger, spoken matter-of-factly. Remy liked that. "In my experience, ladies enjoy the kinds of attention I have attempted to shower on you...and I am sorry if they have only served to perplex and annoy you. But in recent days I have come to realize that you are like no other woman I have ever known, so I cannot claim that this revelation is a complete surprise."

Rogue hated to admit it, but she also thought his response was a good one...and she find herself liking him just a little bit. "Perhaps it was my imagination, but was there a compliment hidden in there somewhere?" she asked, a bit playfully.

"If there was, only a lady such as yourself would consider it one."

She felt her mouth spreading into a grin despite herself as she slid off the wall. "I believe that is an answer I can live with."

"Until tomorrow morning, my lady."

"Until tomorrow," she agreed, leaving him in a flash of silver and white.


	4. Time Always Reveals

**Chapter 3 - Time Always Reveals **

Sage speaks:

_The town on the outskirts of Órënár had been destroyed - the houses burned, the livestock slaughtered, the inhabitants tortured. Some had survived. Most had not._

_She walked through the scene in disgust. The moans of those still alive fused with the buzzing of flies...the smell of spilled blood and rotting flesh stuck to her nostrils. She had known this would happen, it had been predicted. Attacks of this nature would continue to occur, at first only infrequently in the outer reaches of the country, but they would slowly work their way inward until they reached the very heart of Rámaurúva._

_And the queen would do nothing, despite the warnings. It was her duty to protect her people, yet she chose to ignore the signs...that her husband was ailing and she had young ones to care for was no excuse. She was a queen first, a wife second, and a mother third._

_Raven, Lady of Mystique, eyed the carnage that surrounded her. According to Irina, this was just the beginning. The dark forces would multiply and conquer deliberately, unhurriedly, reaching their pinnacle of power when the queen's eldest daughter was full grown. If an effort was made now to prevent such arbitrary violence, perhaps further tragedy could be avoided._

_Yet Raven could not deny the twinge of satisfaction that she felt deep down, far beneath the otherwise natural response of repulsion...for she had never cared for so-called "normal" humans. Her family, her entire village, turned against her the day she was born...skin of an unusual hue was difficult to hide, and people were always quick to fear anything that was different from what they were used to...Raven forced these thoughts out of her head. This was neither the time nor the place to settle old scores. Besides, when her gifts finally revealed themselves, she was able to blend in with those who had once shunned her, something that she learned could be used to her advantage. She would have her revenge. They would never know what hit them..._

_Still, times like this made her pause...was this amount of carnage worth it? The people of this town had done nothing to her, should they pay for the mistakes of others? Not that she had anything to feel guilty about - this had not been her doing - but if she had listened to Irina, if she had left a little earlier, ridden a little faster, perhaps she could have helped these people defend themselves against whatever enemy it was that attacked them so viciously. Because their opponent did not distinguish between men and women, adults and children, men and beasts - it killed anything that breathed. She was sure it would not distinguish between normal and gifted either...and so their foe was also her own._

_Just then, a muffled cry jolted her back into the present._

"Fool," _Raven scolded herself as she searched for its source, _"letting yourself be caught off guard...you should know better."

_The closer she got to the sound's origin, the quicker her steps became. She began to realize why she was responding to this particular noise, while ignoring the death throes of the others. It was a child's cry, a baby's cry. She began to panic when she reached the pile of debris from which the wail emanated. Frantically, Raven tore boards, straw, and the limp body of a woman off the mound until a squalling infant covered in blood was revealed. She picked up the child and returned to her horse, where she poured water from a canteen onto an extra shirt and washed the babe the best she could before wrapping her in another cloth._

_Once the little girl was clean and warm, she settled down in Raven's arms. Looking up at the strange woman, she laughed, reaching up to touch her blue face. Raven leaned forward and allowed the child to pat her cheek, poke her nose, and pull her hair. When the examination of her savior was complete, she nuzzled against the Ranger's breast and fell asleep. Raven fell in love with her daughter immediately._

_Or so the story goes...  
_

* * *

Pastel colors were already spreading across the dawn sky when Remy walked into the stables. Located a distance from Naira, they were surrounded by the small, well-kept homes of the common folk. Keeping that in mind, he readied his horse as quietly as possible, so as not to awaken anyone nearby. He had just finished adjusting the reins when Katherine entered building, wearing a thick violet cloak.

"Good morning, my lord," she greeted him softly as she walked past him into the depths of the stable.

"And a good morning to you, Lady Katherine. How do you fair on this fine day?"

"I am tired and cold, since you asked, but I am otherwise well."

After reaching her desired horse, Katherine lead the mare back towards the entrance. She was a fine animal, deep chocolate with a white spot on her nose. He noticed that she had already been prepared for the day's journey, and began to wonder if his traveling companion had beat him to the punch.

"Is the Lady Rogue awake yet?"

"She has been up for near an hour now."

He followed her out into the open air, stopping as she did in front of the building. To his left, walking down the stairs that lead to the great hall of Naira, was a group of people. As Rogue was part of this party, he had little to do but wait for her arrival. Rogue and the queen were in front, and though they set a quick pace, they did not appear hurried. They spoke in low voices, apparently deep in conversation that no other was meant to hear. Logan, Xavier, and the king followed behind, giving the women enough room to ensure their privacy. The men were all half-dressed in hastily thrown on tunics and the worn, comfortable pants they slept in, and the queen obviously still wore her nightgown under the elaborate robe she bore. Rogue, meanwhile, wore a curiously fashioned green cloak over what appeared to be a white man's shirt, tight brown pants, and knee-high brown heeled boots. The cloak was actually half-cloak, half-coat - it had fitted sleeves and a fitted torso that buttoned down to her waist. The bottom of the cloak nearly brushed the ground, but was cut in half in the back, so as to allow her to easily ride a horse in it, Remy assumed. He also noticed that the cloak also had a hood that now hung down her back. Her hands were covered by brown leather gloves.

Rogue and the queen had not quite finished their discussion by the time they reached Remy and Katherine, so they stood apart from them while the others joined the pair and their horses. As the king began talking to Katherine about the day's chores, Xavier and Logan pulled Remy aside.

"You better look after her, bub," Logan growled, giving him a threatening look. "Or else."

"The Lady Rogue needs no looking after," Xavier stated aloud while he mentally scolded Logan, "but it eases my heart that you will be with her, just in case something should happen." Logan grumbled under his breath and walked away, and Xavier leaned in towards Remy. "I chose you to accompany her for a reason, my friend. Do not let me down."

"We shall arrive at our destination safely," he promised, embracing the older man, "and we will be back in the morrow."

Remy mounted his horse and waited for Rogue to say her good-byes before they headed out. She once again grasped her lady's hands, leaning forward to kiss each cheek before grasping Logan's hand and giving it a hearty shake. She then repeated the formal royal good-bye with Katherine, mounted her horse, and bade the others farewell with a wave of her arm.

She spoke not to Remy, but motioned for him to follow as she galloped out of the city's gates.

* * *

They made the entire journey in silence, stopping only once at a stream to allow the horses a drink and a short rest before continuing on. The sun had sunk below the horizon, setting the dusk sky afire as they neared the line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest.

Rogue gently pulled back on her reins, stopping her horse a good distance from the towering wooden columns, and Remy brought his horse next to her. "Why are we stopping?"

"We are unexpected in this sacred place, and I do not wish to alarm its inhabitants."

Almost on cue, a voice echoed menacingly from the trees. "Who dares approach the Forest of Fánacuruni?"

Before either could speak, other voices began shouting one at a time from all directions. "You are not welcome here!" "Turn back before we make you pay for your trespass!" "Begone, intruders, or beware!"

Remy slowly reached across his body, preparing for a confrontation, but Rogue placed her hand on his arm before his fingers could find the object they sought. "Do not be so hasty, my lord."

Something in her tone made him remove his eyes from the danger ahead to look upon her face. She was smiling, ever so slightly, but it was a smile that touched the hardness of her eyes and the chill of her heart. He watched as she pursed her lips and whistled a short tune.

A moment later, her tune was repeated back to them, and a lone figure emerged from the shadows. Excitement sparkled in Rogue's eyes as her smile grew - the sun melting a frost that had lasted far too long. She finally removed her hand from his arm, a motion that startled them both as her touch had lingered longer than necessary and had become surprisingly comfortable, then dismounted and walked towards the figure.

By the time Remy had dismounted and grabbed the reins of both horses, she was laughing and embracing what appeared to be a blue demon. "Kurt! Always with the jokes," she scolded after they let go of each other. "My companion nearly came after you."

"As if he could catch me," Kurt said, stepping back. "Look at you...you grow more beautiful each time I see you."

"And you grow more accustomed to exaggerating," she replied, motioning for Remy to come over. "Come and meet my brother, my lord. What is strange in his appearance is only doubled by his personality."

"Quite the lady, aren't we?" he joked, extending his hand to Remy. "Kurt, son of Raven, fosterling of the Wagners, Nightcrawler of Fánacuruni."

" 'Tis an introduction, not a life history," Rogue scoffed as Remy took his hand. "This is Remy, son of Jean-Luc. He rode with me to ensure my safety..."

Kurt recognized the name, but kept it to himself. "I thank you for watching over Rogue...she is usually too stubborn to allow an escort."

Before Remy could answer, Rogue had linked arms with Kurt, and his attention was already focused back on her. They began walking towards the forest, and Remy followed them. "Tell me, sister, how fares our mother? Is she well?"

"As well as she can be...you know how Raven is..."

He certainly did. "And Irina, how is she?"

"Irina is also well, but she has had some violent night visions that have compelled me to take counsel with your lady."

"Is it bad?"

"Things do not look good," she said seriously, "but I hope this visit will help to change the future beyond the one she has seen for the better."

"I pray it to be so," he replied. He glanced over his shoulder at Remy, who hung back so the siblings could talk without his overhearing them. "Is that why you have come with a companion, or is this man more than just an attendant?"

"Lower your voice," she hissed. "I would not have him hear you ask such things!"

"Since when is the Steel Magnolia embarrassed so easily? I would not think it possible...unless..."

"Hold your tongue, lest you wish to lose it."

Surprised at her sudden lack of humor, Kurt waited several minute before speaking again. "Do not be angry with me, Rogue. It was nothing but jest."

Rogue had a quick temper, one that could be lost with the smallest of comments; her anger, once provoked, did not fade as quickly as most people's. Kurt knew this, and wondered if he had ruined her visit with hasty words.

"You are forgiven," she said after a sizable pause. "But do not make such a jest again."

"I won't," he promised, kissing her gloved hand. "Come, the lady awaits your arrival."

As Remy followed the brother and sister into the woods, he paused mid-step, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that he was being watched. A glance over his shoulder would have pacified him, if it was not for something he caught in the corner of his eye. By the time his brain had caught up with his sight and he turned completely around, it was gone. Remy told himself that his eyes were playing tricks on him, that it was all in his head, and continued to lead the horses down the path into the trees...but he could not shake the feeling that his instincts had been right...

The lady on the hill breathed a silent sigh of relief as the Ranger disappeared into the forest. She was a beauty, clothed entirely in white, with platinum hair and eyes as cold and hard as the winter sky. Despite all appearances, her purity was long gone, her soul sold in an unending quest for power. And as she was now among the most influential members of the secret society she belonged to, one might wonder why she had traveled so far to complete such a menial task - watching a couple walk into the woods. But she needed to confirm that what had once been put to paper was now being realized...and she wanted to see this momentous occasion for herself, to behold the beginning of the end, to bear witness to the inception of prophesy.

She turned to her companion, an ordinary looking man by all accounts - average height, average build, dark hair with signs of gray beginning to creep in - and smiled. Her smiles were almost weapons, fraught with cruelty. "You did well."

"Thank you, m'lady."

She took her horse's reins from him and mounted the snow-colored mare before adding, "I almost thought he saw us."

The man also mounted his horse. He hesitated only a moment, then answered honestly, as it would be pointless to attempt to keep the truth from her. "He did, for a split second. I did not think the illusion was necessary any longer, so I ended it. I did not realize his powers of perception were so strong."

If it was up to her, she would have killed him on the spot. Such carelessness was not acceptable under normal circumstances, and certainly could not be afforded now. This is one of the reasons she had insisted on going on a mission that the others thought was beneath them - she could trust no one. She would believe her own eyes, no one else's. But as much as she longed to strike him down, he still had a part to play in the events as they unfolded. He could be punished when his role was complete. "I would not dwell upon it. We were not detected, and that is all that matters."

She gave her horse a swift kick, and it began to gallop down the hill with the man close behind. She wanted to get back and make her report as soon as possible.

* * *

"Rogue..." The weather witch of the Forest of Fánacuruni stood at her friend's approach, opening her arms to embrace her. "It has been such a long time..."

"Indeed," Rogue replied, holding on to her for a few seconds before taking Ororo's hands in her own and stepping back. Ororo always looked perfect in Rogue's eyes - her white hair lay long and straight down her back, and her dress, though simple, was elegant. She wore a silk lavender gown with thin straps with a matching shrug that hung off her forearms and draped delicately behind her. "You look well, my lady."

"As do you."

Rogue released Ororo's hands, suddenly self conscious. She was still in her riding gear, minus the cloak Kurt had taken with him. "I'm sorry...I am not in appropriate attire."

Ororo burst into laughter. "It _has_ been a long time, hasn't it? My dear Rogue, you know that the formalities of court are not upheld here...not unless they are deemed necessary. And a visit from you need never be hindered by such nonsense." She lead Rogue to the pond next to which she had been sitting and they both sat. "Now, tell me what is of such importance that the Lady of the Phoenix has sent you to me."

"How did you...?"

"I was speaking to her before you arrived," she said, motioning to the pond.

Rogue was confused. "I did not think the lady was capable of communicating over such long distances."

"Nor did I. It was a brief conversation, to be sure - Xavier disapproved of her attempting such a feat at all - but she confessed that her powers have been waxing as of late, and had no difficulty contacting me. She told me that my services were needed, but could give me little more information as Xavier compelled her to break the connection."

"I do not like the sound of this."

"Why?" Ororo searched the uneasy face of her friend. "What has happened?"

This time Rogue made a conscious decision to keep the queen's confidence - telling Remy about her dreams had been a mistake, though she trusted him not to repeat what she said - but she told her the rest, starting with Xavier's arrival in Rámaurúva and ending with her own arrival here at the forest.

"Will you not tell me the details of Irina's vision?" the Lady of Fánacuruni asked when Rogue was done with her tale, "Or is it something you would rather not share?"

"I have no problem telling you all I know, my friend, but I'm not sure how to describe what she saw...it was all rather confusing. Irina and Raven were talking at the same time, arguing almost, so I only got bits and pieces of it..."

"Arguing about what?"

"Raven did not want me to know the particulars of the vision...it would not be the first time...but I do not understand why she wanted to keep it from me. If it can help us plan a course of action, the more I know, the better. I suppose she could be trying to protect me...but, if anything, she's just making things worse..."

Ororo had never cared for Raven. There was something not quite right about the woman...something not genuine. She had some kind of hidden agenda that the weather witch was still unable to discern. "You step-mother has always been protective of you."

"Yes...but there was something different about this time...I don't know..." Rogue contemplated the small liquid mirror thoughtfully. "There will be a battle...a battle to end all battles. Good versus evil. Heaven versus hell. Light versus darkness. Except..." Her voice drifted off as she tried to put Irina's fears into words. "Except light will be on the side of darkness. All of the powers of the universe will be against...well, whatever's left. I do not understand it. It doesn't make any sense..."

"I'm sure Irina will tell the Lady of the Phoenix what she can...after all, it is her duty to report everything she sees to the queen. Perhaps the Lady will be able to explain the situation further."

"Perhaps..."

"Rogue, you have had a long day, and will endure another one tomorrow when you ride back home, pray leave these troubles behind you and relax. There's not much we can do about this at present."

"You're right," Rogue said, forcing a smile, "there's nothing to do but wait. If you'll excuse me, my lady, I will seek out my brother and spend some time with him."

"Of course," Ororo replied, standing. "He will certainly be a member of the party I bring to Naira, but I bid you spend some leisure time with him now..."

Rogue stood as well, curtsied, and walked away. Ororo watched as she disappeared into the dark woods and finished her sentence. "...for this may be the last time we have a chance to indulge in such frivolities..."

* * *

He sat leaning against a tree, smoking his pipe. He had considered going to sleep, but even as the moon rose high above the blanket of trees that hid the horizon, his bedroll remained tightly packed at his side.

Remy couldn't hear her approach...her steps were as silent as if she was walking on air. Maybe she was. But her scent - the sweet smell that always proceeds a heavy rain - betrayed her. She had borne that scent since she was a child, when they first met.

"Good evening, Stormy," he said without turning around.

"I should smack you for calling me that."

Remy smiled. Same ol' Storm. Taking up the mantle of the White Witch had not changed her, and he was glad. "It's good to see you too."

"Rogue told me that you accompanied her...that you were traveling with Xavier and the Wolverine, but I could scarce believe it." She sat down next to him, following his gaze to the waterfall that fed the lake before them.

"And why is that? You introduced me to Xavier yourself, and encouraged me to join him."

"Yes...but you were such a loner when we met, not to mention stubborn. To listen to a child's suggestion..."

"A _woman's_ suggestion," he corrected. "Even then I could see that you were more mature than your outward appearance suggested...besides, I was ready to try something new. I am still on my own, but keep in touch with him. He is a good friend and ally."

Ororo moved to speak, but stopped when she heard the echo of laughter tiptoe through the trees. She smiled to herself, enjoying the sound that had been absent from her domain for so long. Remy continued to smoke his pipe, and the two sat without speaking further, bearing silent witness to what was now a rare sight.

A figure appeared at the top of the cliff overlooking the waterfall, giggling as she glanced over her shoulder, searching for some unseen pursuer. Although the pair of friends couldn't see anyone themselves, the woman apparently did, as she dove off the cliff a minute later. There was no hesitation as she gracefully leapt into the air and purposely aimed for what would surely be a collection of jagged rocks hidden beneath the foam at the bottom of the falls.

Moments before her fingers grazed the water, a puff of smoke surrounded her, then seemingly instantaneously appeared several feet above the middle of the lake, where Rogue would be able to enter the water without harm. Then another cloud of dark smoke materialized at the edge of the lake near Remy and Ororo so quickly that it preceded her splash by several seconds.

"She's giving you quite a workout, isn't she?" Ororo asked.

"Doesn't she always?" Kurt grinned, watching his sister surface to push her hair out of her face before disappearing once again.

"The hour grows late..." Ororo began, but didn't have to finish. He himself had already had that thought.

"I know...but Rogue insisted. I'll fetch her a robe." Two puffs of smoke later, Kurt had reappeared with a large, soft, moss-green robe hanging from his arm. "Come, sister," he called across the water, "I grow weary in this late hour. Let us retire for the night, so we may be refreshed in the morn."

Rogue heard her brother's words despite the fact that she was still underwater. She'd rather have more time to enjoy the freedom swimming always brought her - since learning at a young age, she thought that it was as close to flying as she'd ever get - but knew there was truth in what Kurt had said. She needed rest, as did her hosts. She peeked over the silver surface of the lake to determine where her brother was, then dove back down into the depths and made her way towards the shore. Once the bottom had risen high enough for her to stand, she placed her bare feet in the loose sand and emerged from the lake. As soon as she reached Kurt, he held the robe open, turned his head, and closed his eyes.

"Thank you for the hospitality," Rogue said to Ororo over the top of the robe, peeling her soaked clothes off one at a time and dropping them on the ground. "This respite has been much needed; I feel rejuvenated and am ready to resume my duties."

"You need not do so just yet," the weather witch replied, standing. "Rest now. Sleep well. I will ensure your attire is dry by the time of your departure - hang them on a branch and warm winds will take care of them while you slumber."

Now naked, Rogue slipped her arms into the outstretched robe and took the sides from Kurt, wrapping the ankle-length garment around her body before tying the belt around her waist. "Goodnight, dear brother. It has been a pleasure spending time with you."

"As always," he responded, hugging her, "the pleasure was all mine."

He turned then, and offered his arm to the lady of the woods. "We will see you off in the morrow," Ororo promised before the two vanished into the shadows of the trees.

Remy sat, still smoking, and watched Rogue gather her clothes from the forest floor. His back was against the trunk of a thick oak, his left leg straight before him, while his right was bent upward, his foot planted firmly on the ground. Over the lake, the pale glow of the crescent moon had been sufficient, but here under the canopy of leaves, darkness ruled, and Remy did not know if Rogue realized he was there. Until she spoke.

"You did not turn away when I undressed," she said, carefully hanging her clothes on a low branch.

"You did not ask me to."

Rogue wasn't bothered in the least by his watching her change. In fact, she was amused that Kurt still made such a big deal about _not_ looking...either closing his eyes or turning away would be enough, but he insisted on doing both. She trusted him not to peek; although they were not related by blood, the ties that bound them were profound. As far as either was concerned, they were brother and sister, and no brother or sister that she heard of ever wanted to see the other in a state of undress. And while Remy did not avert his eyes voluntarily, she knew he would not have hesitated to do so if she had asked it of him. Truth be told, from his vantage point, there was nothing for him to see...

Once she was satisfied that her clothes were secure enough that they would not fall onto the ground in the night, she walked towards the spark of Remy's pipe. "My brother tells me that you are a Ranger..." she began, kneeling at his feet. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

"My mother...Raven...was the Ranger of Órënár for many years, during the reign of the previous queen...it was in that capacity that she rescued me from certain death, when she came across a town that had been butchered. I was the sole survivor, a babe who escaped extinction by some strange miracle. "

"How did Raven come to guard the queen?"  
"Once she brought me home, she found it difficult to leave me for long periods of time, so she asked the queen for a change in assignment. A mother herself, the lady readily agreed."

Remy wondered why Raven would so easily give up her flesh and blood child to be fostered somewhere else and take so much interest in one that was connected to her purely by coincidence. He could not be sure, but he had a feeling that Kurt had been raised by the Wagners since he was an infant, with occasional visits from his birth mother. He decided to keep these thoughts to himself. "She seems like the type better suited to be a Ranger..."

"Aye. To give it up must have been difficult for her. I had hoped to follow in her footsteps...but it seems the stars had something else in store for me." Rogue paused, her eyes finally adjusted enough to the lack of light to see his features. She met his gaze, and with more emotion than she intended, asked a question that had taunted her since Kurt revealed that Remy, son of Jean-Luc, was also Gambit the Ranger, "What is it like?"

The yearning in her voice touched him. "For one who truly dedicates himself to the ideals of a Ranger, it is a demanding life. There are fewer of us now than ever before...many have pledged allegiance to a particular town or country, though some have made a vow before whatever gods they believe in to protect justice wherever they roam. Either way, the position requires that Rangers spend most of their lives on the road, traveling from one place to another in an attempt to fight lawlessness and keep the peace."

"And the freedom involved?"

"There is a great deal of freedom, which is what appeals the most to me. The danger, the long roads, the loneliness...they are all small prices to pay for the independence that goes along with the territory."

"That I could give up my obligations and become a Ranger..." Rogue began wistfully, standing up and retrieving her bedroll from beside him. "But I am second to the Lady of the Phoenix, and Katherine is much too young for the burdens of ruling a country...I would not leave her to such a fate at present. Should something happen to Jeanne, I must be there to take my place on the throne. "

She turned her back to him and laid out the blankets that had been sewn together to form a kind of cocoon. She was about to wish her companion a good night when he addressed her. "May I ask you a question, milady?"

"I wonder that you would ask."

"I fear you may find it too personal, and I do not wish to offend."

His answer piqued her curiosity. "By all means, my lord, make your inquiry."

"During your games with your brother...why did you not simply borrow his powers...why must he transport you away from the peril of the falls? If I may say so, you are not the type of woman who likes to rescued..."

It was a sensitive question for Rogue, but she was not affronted by it. His attention to detail could come in handy in the days ahead. "How much do you know about my gift?"

"Only that you are able to absorb the gifts of others...and you are unable to control this ability, so you keep yourself covered as much as possible."

"And who told you this?"

"Lord Logan mentioned it to me, but would say no more."

Rogue turned to face him once again, sitting cross-legged on the blankets, keeping a safe wall of darkness between them. "It is a dangerous gift I have, especially since I cannot control it. You are right, I can 'borrow' the powers of those who are like us...but I also absorb their memories, their personalities, and the very thing that keeps us all alive. The longer my skin is in contact with theirs, the more I take, and the stronger the potency..." She paused for a moment to collect herself. "The effect is temporary for both sides. Sometimes the person I touch loses consciousness, other times he or she simply feels tired; either way, those I absorb are able to regain their strength in a fair amount of time. As for me, I am only able to use their gifts for a short time. Depending on the length of contact, I can also exhibit certain aspects of their character for some duration."

"And the memories?"

She almost hoped he had forgotten that detail. "The memories fade with time, but I am never truly free of them. Do not mistake me, I would not hesitate to employ my gift when it is necessary. However, I refuse to use it for fun and games."

"You bear your burden with responsibility, my lady."

Remy's attitude towards her had changed so much since their first meeting...he no longer treated her like a prize to be won, a delicate object to be admired for its beauty and little else. Instead, he seemed to adapt a new view of her as a colleague, a peer. Someone to stand by, not someone he must stand in front of and protect. In her experience, even in a country as open-minded as Órënár, men had difficulty accepting women as their equals...and the few who could were frightened by the rumors that surrounded her "condition." And so, Rogue found herself wanting to confide in this rarest of rare men, to confess how she was tortured by her gift to an extent that she felt it was a curse, to tell him about how she became aware of her powers, and how her mother had trained her...but she still could not bring herself to let someone in. Not yet.

"Will you not share the details of your gift with me?" she asked after a sizable silence had fallen between them.

"It is nothing to yours, to be sure, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of tarot cards, plucking one from the small wooden box he kept them in, knowing that she was too far away to see what he was doing. "Watch," he commanded, adding a slight charge to the stiff paper.

The reddish glow emitting from the card lit up the area immediately surrounding Remy. It drew Rogue to it like a moth to a flame; she had to approach him to examine it. "What sorcery is this?"

"Sorcery? No...it is a power as natural as your own. When I focus on a solid object touching my skin, I am able to add a sort of 'charge' to it. I can change the type of energy held by the object, and make it explode upon contact with another object."

"Do you always use cards?"

"Not always, though they are my weapons of choice. They are small and easy to carry...and if I get bored, I have something to amuse myself with." He removed the charge from the card once her curiosity had been satisfied, and placed it back with its brothers and sisters.

"It is a peculiar gift...but they all are, I think." Rogue waited for her eyes to readjust to the dark before returning to her blankets. "It gives you an advantage over your enemy, as you can engage them from a distance."

"That it does."

"May your sleep be restful, Lord Remy."

"May your greatest wishes be granted in your dreams," was his response. He finished smoking his pipe, waiting for her breaths to became deep and even. When he was convinced she was asleep, he retired himself. His night was full of images of the Ranger Rogue longed to be...


	5. What Ravages of Spirit

**Chapter 4 - What Ravages of Spirit**

Logan looked up from the book of otherwise forgotten lore in his lap and gazed blankly into space...it was dark, save the dying embers in the fireplace across the room, but his eyesight was more than capable of picking up the details of his surroundings. The hour was late...the crescent moon, now lost behind the dull grayness of clouds, had already begun to descend in the night sky. His attempts to distract himself from the growing sense of impending doom had failed - his animalistic side had picked up the subtle signs of danger days ago, but he had successfully fought the urge to respond, repressing these feelings deep within his mind and soul. His instincts could not be denied any longer, however. Something was coming. Something evil.

To speak to the queen of this matter would be superfluous; she was well aware of the fact, and had taken the necessary steps to prepare. He knew that the White Witch would need no convincing to assist her old friend, though the extent of her aid would not be known until Rogue and Remy returned from their two-day journey. As he sat in this moment, with the time between the couple's departure and return equally balanced around him, he wondered if the help they brought with them would be enough. Deep down, he knew it would not be.

It was in the midst of his uneasiness that the Lady of the Phoenix entered the room. An exquisite combination of pleasure and pain washed over his other emotions as he beheld her in a sacred silence. Although he was much older than she, he could not remember a time when he wasn't thoroughly, unequivocally in love with her...it was as though he loved her through all the ages of the world, and as impossible as it seemed, there was a truth to these thoughts that he could not refute.

Hidden in the shadows of the corner where he sat, Logan's presence went unnoticed by the queen. She walked slowly, purposefully, almost ceremoniously towards the fireplace. When she reached the gaping stone mouth, she turned to fully face it. The light of the nearly extinguished remnants of a fire lit hours earlier outlined her silhouette with an eerie orange glow as she extended her arms ever so slightly, as if she was preparing to welcome a long lost friend. She paused but a moment before raising her hands above her head in a swift motion, causing the lifeless ashes to spring into an impossibly brilliant blaze. A low, guttural laugh filled the room as Logan watched helplessly, frozen by some unknown enchantment. After admiring the growing flames of her own creation, she reached out to hold some unseen suitor and began to dance around the room, humming softly to herself. Unaware that the hem of her gown had been ignited when it lingered too close to the fire, she continued her unholy celebration, her steps becoming increasingly more frantic until she whirled around the room in an uncontrolled frenzy, the flames devouring her.

Still rooted to his seat, it took all of Logan's power to whisper his protestation against the blasphemy he was forced to bear witness to. "Jeannie...no..."

The lady stopped, her back to him, and lowered her arms. "Well, well, it seems that my privacy has been intruded upon," she commented, her delicate voice dripping with venom. She turned to face him, still ablaze, then began to leisurely slink in his direction. When she finally stood directly in front of him, she leaned over and placed her hands on the arm rests of his chair so she could look him in the eye. "What have we here?"

Logan's mind raced - it struggled to unearth a memory that had been triggered by the events before him...but he was unable to decode the tangled thoughts buried deep within his subconscious. Still, he reacted.

"No," he repeated, stronger this time, and willed himself into motion. As he stood, the ancient book fell from his lap with a loud thud, and the woman before him stumbled backwards in surprise. She hit the ground just as his claws extended from the back of his hands.

He blinked.

"Logan?"

The room had returned to its original appearance - pitch-dark and quiet. In place of the roaring fire, the last of the struggling embers had succumbed to their inevitable doom, and in place of the bewitching demon, the queen laid at his feet. He immediately retracted his claws and held his hand out to her. "Oh, Jeannie, I'm so sorry."

The Lady of the Phoenix accepted his hand and allowed him to pull her up. Once she was standing, she led him back to his chair and forced him to sit down. "There is no need to apologize, my lord...I was foolish to startle you in such a manner."

He took a deep breath. "I don't understand."

"I was walking past the doorway when you called my name..."

"No...you were here, and you..."

She crouched down beside him so she could better see his face. "I was walking the halls and heard you cry out in the darkness...when I finally found you and leaned over, you sprang up, ready to strike."

He shook his head at her story. "It wasn't a dream. I saw you..."

"Saw me what?" she asked innocently. He looked into her eyes and saw no deception in them. Despite his feelings for her, he knew he would be able to recognize a lie.

"Nothing..."

"We are all having nightmares, there is no shame in admitting it," she said reassuringly, placing a hand on his arm. "There is something coming, something evil." He stiffened slightly at her words, but allowed her to continue. "But it is not coming tonight. Let us return to our bed chambers so we may gather our strength. Then when it arrives, we will be ready."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "As you wish, my lady."

They both stood, and he escorted her back to the room she shared with her husband before returning to his own. He found no rest that night.

* * *

Rogue and Remy rode through the gates of Rámaurúva an hour before sunset. After handing their horses over to a stable hand, they made their way up the stairs leading to Naira, and upon entering the great hall, they found their friends enjoying a light supper. The king expressed his regrets in not waiting for the pair to start their meal, then invited the two to join them. Rogue deemed his apology unnecessary, explaining that they had left the forest very early that morning in order to hasten their return, then inquired after the queen - the only member of the party absent from the table. When the king told her that his lady had retired early because she was unwell, Rogue hastily excused herself to speak with her. Remy stayed with the others and ate heartily.

Hours later, everyone except the queen and Irina gathered in one of the recreation rooms. Raven, Katherine, Xavier, Logan, Remy, and the king sat around a circular table, playing cards. Because Rogue arrived after the game had already begun - she had spent some time with Jeanne before eating - she searched for another diversion so as not to interrupt them. After considering several options, she finally settled on one that could be enjoyed by all. She left the room to retrieve her lute, which had been gathering dust in the corner of her chamber, then sat on the long, velvet couch in the center of the room. It took her a few minutes to tune the instrument, but the music that followed was well worth the wait. Though Rogue fumbled through parts of the first song or two, her fingers soon began to remember their training, and her talent became apparent.

She continued to play even as the card game ended and some of her friends opted to find other amusements. Raven, Katherine, Xavier, and the king remained at the table, discussing what the nature of the next round would be, while Remy and Logan moved to join her. Remy sat beside her, taking out his own deck of cards, and Logan across from her. As Remy began to skillfully manipulate the cards from hand to hand, Logan smiled to himself. The other man was sitting very close to Rogue - his left leg was nearly touching her right - and while she had not reacted, he knew that she noticed...

He was unable to follow his thoughts through to completion because a guard burst into the room a moment later.

"My lady, pardon the interruption," he gasped, struggling to catch his breath, "but I bring tidings that could not be delayed..."

Rogue placed her lute aside and rose. "Pray tell, what is it?"

"A dragon."

The corners of her mouth turned down ever so slightly. "A dragon?"

"Aye."

Her expression changed from that of patient concern to one of annoyance. "I do not blame you, sir, for coming in unannounced when the situation warrants it, but this is rubbish. There are no dragons in Órënár, I know this as sure as I know my own name."

"But, milady, a messenger from one of our provinces has just arrived to report the presence of such a beast in our country..."

"Very well," she replied, walking towards the door, "I will speak with him." She motioned for the others to follow them in the off chance there was something to this story. "I am just glad that you did not bother the queen with this foolishness..."

"I went to her room first, but she was not there."

His statement puzzled Rogue...Jeanne had told her that she was not feeling well and planned on spending the rest of the night in her room. Deep down, Rogue sensed that something was not right. "I will speak to the messenger; I want you to look for the Lady of the Phoenix...ask help from whomever you can find."

He told her that the messenger awaited her in the great hall, then left her to search the building for the missing queen. Her pace quickened ever so slightly, but when she reached her destination, she found the hall empty.

"What's going on?" the king asked behind her.

"I do not know...a prank, perhaps?"

"This is a serious allegation, would your people make light of such a matter?" Remy spoke up.

"No," Rogue replied, "They would not make something like this up, and yet..." She shook her head and walked towards the doors that led outside. "This is ridiculous, there has not been a dragon in these parts for..."

She pushed open the doors and stepped out into the night. Rogue could see many of the townspeople below had left the warmth and light of their homes for the cool, dark outdoors. They were pointing to the sky and talking in raised voices. She too turned her gaze upwards and witnessed a fearful sight - off in the distance, part of the sky was on fire.

Her friends crowded behind her as she finished her sentence, "...hundreds of years..."

As the townspeople began to panic, running back to their houses in hopes of surviving the looming menace, Rogue and her companions stared silently at the approaching threat. They simply could not believe their eyes despite the guard's warning just minutes ago.

Once the initial shock wore off, Rogue sprung into action. She pushed past the others and headed for her room, where she armed herself. With the queen's location currently unknown, it was her responsibility to defend the city. She retrieved the brown leather belt that she had hastily thrown on her bed after her conversation with Jeanne and pulled it tightly around her waist. Her sword and knife were still attached to the belt, and it only took a moment to properly adjust them so each lay in the right place - her sword hung on her left side, while her knife was at her back, suspended by dual leather straps, its hilt pointing towards her right side. Wanting to be fully prepared, she also retrieved her leather battle quiver, decorated with a diagonal line of magnolia blossoms that were inlaid in precious adamantium. The arrows clicked together as she fixed the quiver on her back by buckling its leather strap across her chest.

_"Easy girl,"_ she thought, forcing herself to be patient and do things the right way...arming herself so heavily would be for naught if she did not follow through properly. "_Take your time, concentrate..."_ Rogue grabbed her bow, made and exquisitely carved by Kurt, its design a perfect match to her quiver, and strung it carefully. She wished she had one of Ororo's hairs - before becoming the White Witch of the Wood, she had been revered as a goddess in her native land. If that were true, and her hair used to string a bow, it could increase the range of the arrows shot from that bow tenfold. But she did not have the time to ponder this idea for long. She quickly strapped a pair of worn leather vanbraces to her forearms, then took a second to mentally check herself. She was ready.

Calmly, she strode out her door and headed towards the watchtower, the cold of the stones seeping through her stocking feet. As Rogue climbed the steps, she found herself surrounded by a silence that made her feel like she was the last person in the world, and she marveled at the fact that she had not passed another living soul since departing her chamber. There were no guards awaiting her at the top of the tower, validating her fears. The wind roared in her ears as she focused on the fiery figure in the sky. It was much closer now, and though she could not yet make out its shape, it was larger than she had originally thought, gargantuan even. There was a much smaller, darker shadow within the beast around where its heart should be. That would be her target.

She reached back and pulled an arrow from her quiver, then brought it to her string. She held her bow up, and drew the arrow back, lining up its tip with the dark shape. Distant voices called to her over the wind, but she ignored them. Hoping beyond hope that the arrow would hit its target in spite of the many obstacles present - the distance it had to travel, the strong winds, and the possibility that the creature would completely change its course - Rogue released the projectile.

It flew with what appeared to be great accuracy for a short period of time before a red blast of energy disintegrated it. Rogue turned around just in time to see the king adjust the ruby-lensed glasses he was never seen without.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "That _thing_ will be upon us presently, I have to stop it before..."

"My lady, look," Xavier interrupted, pointing to the sky.

She spun around and watched helplessly as the monster flew over the gates of the city. It dove towards the houses, then headed directly for tower. It finally struck her then, why the king had dared to prevent her arrow from staying its course - this was no dragon. The beast of fire took the form of a bird, ostensibly mocking Órënár's emblem. But it was not until it rose up and flew over the watchtower that Rogue fully comprehended the gravity of the situation. There, in the midst of the flaming phoenix was the queen, all smiles and glee, taunting them with a laugh that was not her own. She did not speak or even stop, but continued on her way, soaring over the fields behind them.

Rogue immediately made her way towards the stairs, but her mother blocked her way. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I must follow her..."

"You must stay and protect your people."

"My people are fine," she argued, trying to get around the other woman, but Raven would not budge.

"They are not fine - they are frightened...they need someone to..."

"They need someone to find out what's going on, and that is my plan..."

"You cannot leave..."

Rogue was tired of Raven telling her what to do, and had no time for her games. "You will move out of my way, or I will have you arrested." She paused a moment to let her mother consider. "Do not make me call the guards."

When Raven still refused to move, Rouge knew what needed to be done. She reached behind her and slowly pulled out her knife with her right hand. The other woman's eyes widened in disbelief, but her expression remained calm. "You would not strike your own mother down."

Rogue pointed the blade towards Raven's chest. "Truth be told, I'd rather not...but if you will not get out of my way voluntarily, I will make you."

"Ladies, please," Xavier said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Rogue's arm. "We don't have time for this nonsense."

"You're right," Rogue said, seemingly coming to her senses. She lowered her weapon and carefully returned it to its sheath, then turned to face the others. Raven relaxed a notch, just as Rogue knew she would, and was unprepared when her daughter suddenly spun around and pushed her out of the way.

Raven moved to follow, but Remy grabbed her arm. "Let her go, my lady. She knows what she needs to do."

"I did not ask for your counsel," Raven replied icily, prying his fingers from her person. "And if you ever lay a hand on me again, you will lose it." She glared at him for an instant, then ran down the stairs herself.

"Should we follow?" Remy asked, turning back to his companions. He had kept himself from going after Rogue because he felt that this was something she had to do alone, but one word from Xavier would have him in hot pursuit.

Xavier glanced at the king who was, for his part, grief-stricken and silent, then spoke. "Aye...someone must look after the lady, especially since she is now technically the queen." He approached Logan, who was staring in the direction that Jeanne had flown. "You must go with Rogue."

Remy interjected. "But he is clearly in no condition to..."

"I'm fine," the wild man grumbled, shaking off his heartbreak. "I will accompany her and give her whatever assistance she may need. I will keep her safe."

After he too had left the tower, Xavier addressed Remy before he could protest. "I have reasons for my choice, Remy. Please do not question them - I don't know if I can put them into words - just trust in my decision."

He took a deep breath before answering. "You have never led me astray yet, so I will abide by the selection you have made."

"Good man. Now, help me attend to the king."

While Remy, Xavier, and Katherine patiently convinced the king to return inside, Rogue raced across the field at top speed. Her horse, aptly named Alacoroquen, or "wild wind rider," had already been groomed and fed when Rogue reached the stables. With no time to lose, she didn't bother with a saddle or bridle; she simply mounted the horse, took her thick mane into her hands, then coaxed the animal with a nudge from her foot. Alacoroquen flew out of the stables, down the path, and out the gate. The two shared a long history - Rogue had been placed on the horse's back when she was still just a filly, around the time Rogue herself was beginning to master the fine art of walking - they essentially grew up together. And so, a special bond now existed between woman and mare, one that kept each in tune with the other's intentions. A slight tug at the mane or tap of the foot by her mistress was all the horse needed to understand her requests.

They headed for the mountain pass that lay northwest of the castle, in the direction that Jeanne had headed. As they entered the narrow path, Rogue could feel Alacoroquen's muscles tense with uneasiness, so she signaled the animal to slow its pace to a canter. It was not long before Rogue also sensed something disquieting, and slowed the horse to a walk. She patted the mare's neck as they continued, keeping her eyes open for anything unusual. It was not until the path opened up on the other side of the mountains that she found what she was looking for. There, leaning against a large rock that lay beside a dying tree, was the queen.

Alacoroquen was devoted to Rogue, but could not overcome the aura of evil that surrounded the other woman. She stopped several feet away from her, refusing to take another step in her direction. Rogue dismounted and stroked her mane, whispering soothing words in her ear before approaching Jeanne.

The Lady of the Phoenix, no longer surrounded by flames of any sort, posed seductively on the rock. She was dressed in foreign garb that would be considered unsuitable by even the loosest standards of the day...a strapless black leather corset laced up in the front, black panties, knee-high black leather boots, black arm-length gloves, and a long, flowing black cape with a red interior, held together by a single red rose. Around her neck she bore what appeared to be a collar of sorts - black with sharp silver spikes around it. Her hair was also arranged in a style that did not fit the times - part of it was wound in a bun on the back of her head, part hung in tight curls down her back, and the rest formed a set of ringlets that framed her face. She smiled at Rogue as the other woman neared.

"I knew you would come," she began, looking down and fingering the blood-red flower at her collar delicately.

Rogue stopped a few feet away and slowly reached across her body. "Did you now?"

"Come now, lady, I know everything about you," she replied casually, without a hint of fear.

"I'm sorry that I cannot say the same," Rogue said, drawing her sword and pointing it tentatively at her friend. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"You are not serious," Jeanne laughed balefully, standing upright and looking Rogue in the eye. "After what you've seen, you _dare_ threaten me with a scrawny sliver of metal? I don't know if I should be amused by your confidence, or insulted by your lack of respect. Do you require another demonstration of my powers?"

In Jeanne's eyes, Rogue saw a terrible abyss, a lifelessness she had never seen in a mortal soul. The only sign of life was the slightest flicker of what looked like a flame dancing behind her pupils. This...thing...was not the queen, despite its outer appearance. She did not trust it. And yet, if it had wished to kill her, she had no doubt it could have done so with a mere thought. Her weapons were useless here. She sheathed her sword without hesitation. "Why have you brought me here?"

The creature appeased, at least for the moment, once again leaned back on the rock behind her. "You are here to discuss an alliance..."

"Between whom?"

She smiled again, a smile without mirth. "I could destroy you right now. You, your precious friends, your kingdom, your entire world...and I could do so without as much as batting an eye. But I have decided instead to invite you to join me. You are a skilled warrior, and you have a gift I admire...I would rather have you as an ally than an enemy."

"And my people, my country?"

"They would be spared as well," she said, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. "I have no use for the majority of them, but I suppose I could find some way for them to serve me."

"You would make them slaves."

Jeanne laughed. "I would allow them to live; their only other option is death."

Rogue moved to speak, but was interrupted by a voice behind her. "It is a generous offer, Rogue, you should take it." Raven morphed from a wolf to her natural form as she spoke, moving to stand beside Jeanne's. "It is the highest of compliments, really, to be asked to join such a powerful entity."

"You belong at my side, mother. You were appointed to protect the queen."

"And so I am..."

"That," Rogue cried, pointing at Jeanne, "is not the queen! I know not who or what it is, but it is not the lady I have known all these years. The lady Jeanne is gone, replaced by some demon who apes her form..."

"Oh, but I am Jeanne," the woman replied, approaching Rogue. "See for yourself, I am the Lady of the Phoenix..." She paused a short distance from her friend, then a burning crown appeared and floated over her head. "But I am also the Black Queen, beautiful and deadly. It is my right to rule this world as I see fit, so choose your next words carefully, or the fate of Órënár will rest in the hands of a child who is not yet ready to lead..."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Logan said, stepping out of the shadows. He had left his horse at the mountain gap and came the rest of the way on foot. He thought that would allow him a greater element of surprise.

"Ah...the wolverine," Jeanne purred. "And now our little party is complete. I was wondering when you were going to show yourself."

"He is of no consequence," Raven uttered nervously, "he has no power to negotiate in this matter...he was not even invited..."

"Neither were you, as I recall," the Black Queen replied, glaring over her shoulder before returning her attention to the man-beast. "But Logan and I are old friends, aren't we?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," he replied gruffly.

"Perhaps not," she said, walking up to him. She locked eyes with his for a few seconds before continuing. "Oh, my dear Wolverine, what have they done to you?"

"I still don't..."

She began to circle him slowly. "Your mind has been fractured...your memories broken into a million little pieces...you can no longer recall the past...indeed, you do not remember me, do you?" She stopped when she was once again facing him. "More's the pity."

"I remember..."

"You remember nothing. You cannot form coherent thoughts of events that happened long ago...but I have an excellent memory...and I have not forgotten what you did to me when we last met." She brought her right hand up to his face and grasped his chin gently. "Kill me once, shame on you, kill me twice..." She let her voice trail off, slowly removing her hand by pulling her velvety fingers down his jawline. "Well, let's just say I've learned my lesson."

"My lady," Raven ventured cautiously, "the hour runs late..."

There was a moment where Jeanne was herself - Logan saw something in her eyes change...they returned to their characteristic warmth and kindness - but she was quickly lost once again, overcome by the Black Queen. "That it does," she agreed, tearing her attention away from the man before her. "Lady Rogue, what say you to my proposition?"

"I..."

"Does she not deserve some time to consider the proposal, my queen?" Raven asked tentatively.

"I need no more time," Rogue interjected. "My choice has been clear from the moment your supposed 'generous offer' was presented - I would rather fight, rather die, than stand by your side."

The Lady of the Phoenix gave her another empty smile. "I though you would say as much...and yet, I find myself willing to give you time to reconsider your answer. I suppose that I am fonder of you than I first thought." She walked past Rogue and Mystique, and continued into the darkness. "You have three days...after that, you will meet your fate, whatever it is to be..."

Rogue watched her disappear into the night, continuing to stare into the void long after her friend had faded into the blackness. "I am not afraid to die," she finally said after a sizable amount of time had passed.

"That is the most selfish thing you've ever said," Raven scolded. "What about your people? Are you afraid for their lives? Would you sacrifice them? Would you watch them suffer and die because you are too stubborn to submit?"

"You would have me yield, throw down my weapons and embrace that abomination? She says their lives will be safe, but I do not trust her...if she does not kill them outright, she will force them into servitude. You ask me if I would have them die - yes, I would have them die fighting for their freedom rather than sentencing them to horrors that I cannot imagine."

"But, daughter..."

"Do not call me that," Rogue replied, turning her back to her mother. "You have betrayed your country, your daughter, and your queen. You have chosen your side, and I have chosen mine. Do not expect any mercy if I come across you on the battlefield." As she walked towards Alacoroquen, who had become much more subdued since the Black Queen's exit, Logan followed her. She stopped to rub the animal's neck, then continued on; there was no need to grab her reins - the mare trailed behind her mistress and Logan as they walked through the mountain pass.

It was only a matter of seconds before an unwanted guest emerged from the darkness and joined Raven. "You said she would be easily swayed," the other woman complained quietly. "You said she would not be a problem..."

Raven crossed her arms. "I said that it was _possible_...I made no promises."

"You dare lie to me? Do you know who I am?"

"Do you know who _I_ am?" Raven spat back, facing her. "Do you have any idea what I have done to prepare her for this moment? You think that you are all-powerful, White Queen, but my daughter could take you out with a simple touch..."

The Lady Frost wore an ensemble exactly like that of Black Queen, with a few notable exceptions: first, her clothes were white, and second, she wore a thick fur coat rather than a flimsy cape. "And I could turn your brain to pudding before you could inform anyone of my existence...now, are we through threatening each other? I would like to get down to business..."

"Did you find anything out when you read her mind?"

"No." The White Queen shook her head. "Her thoughts are as incomprehensible as Wolverine's...my telepathy cannot distinguish the personalities that she has absorbed over the years from her own. I suspect that the Lady of the Phoenix herself could not read her mind without a concerted effort."

"She may still be swayed..."

"I rather doubt it. Her will is much stronger than you let on, and now that you have lost her confidence, who is left to change her mind?"

"Rogue means to kill the Black Queen, that much I can tell...and I'm sure the lady's husband will object to such a plan. If he is unable to convince her, there is still another who may be able to influence her decisions..."

Rogue and Logan had walked in silence until they reached his horse. Too many things had happened back there, she needed time to collect her thoughts and fashion a tentative course of action. For his part, the wild man was thankful for her decision to remain quiet. He was at a loss for what just happened - the creature had spoken true, of that much he was sure...but he could not make out the meaning behind her words...

"I would have you run an errand for me, my lord," Rogue said, facing him. "If you are up to it."

"Anything I can do," Logan replied, with a slight bow.

"Then ride with haste to Parmarondo...are you familiar with the city?"

"Aye, it holds the great hall of records..."

"Exactly," she interrupted, leaning close to him and lowering her voice. "And within the hall of records, there is a hidden room...they call it Fólërondo. You must go to the hall and find the room, then you must pour over what parchments you can, and report back to me tonight."

Logan looked to the east, where the sky was beginning to change color. "That does not give me much time."

"No, you must leave immediately."

"What shall I look for, milady?"

Rogue closed her eyes, replaying all of the Black Queen's words in her head. "She says that this has happened before...she says that you were there..." She opened her eyes and looked at him curiously. "You truly have no memory of the event?"

"No...I...what the lady said was accurate; my mind has been tampered with...I can only remember so far back, and then I am faced with a chaotic collection of images and sounds."

"For that I am sorry...but I must know what happened back then if I am to come up with any kind of plan."

Logan helped her mount her horse before mounting his own. "How am I to find Fólërondo?"

"That I cannot tell you...'tis a secret not even I know. Rumor has it that it can only be located by those who genuinely need to access the papers within. If you have lived through this terror once before, and forgotten the outcome, I can think of no other being who would require these historical documents more."

"Then I bid you farewell until tonight, my lady."

With a swift kick to his horse, Logan rode like the wind across the plain. Rogue headed in a slightly different direction, back towards Rámaurúva...there was much to do before the sun rose...


End file.
